The fact that Leo remained quiet had me remembering that he’d once mentioned that if he had time in his squirrelpocalypse schedule, he would have done what he could to sabotage the events.
“Leo, you’re in the clear,” I reassured him before hearing his sigh of relief. “You were with me all morning, and I know that you could never have physically hurt anyone, let alone Otis. We have to be looking for someone who held a grudge against one or both of them. Maybe Beetle has an upset client from when he owned the accounting firm. Money is always a motive for revenge.”
May I remind you that we’re talking about your mother—Mistress of the Dark?
“True,” I muttered reluctantly in agreement. “But the threats were made against Beetle. This is definitely an enemy of my mother who wants to see her hurt. Let’s finish up these errands.”
Every time I stood in front of the heavy oak doors of the inn, my knuckles itched to alert our presence. I was taught to always knock when paying someone a visit. The only thing that eased my discomfort over ignoring the manners that had practically been bred into me was the sweet aroma that never failed to linger in the air upon making a grand entrance.
Oy vey. I can already feel the flame of heartburn. We really need to convince the old biddy that she needs to upgrade her catnip treats for the feline domestic guests that cross through these doors.
I hid my smile over Leo’s complaint. Even though he didn’t have to join me inside the inn, he never failed to accompany me for the usual cup of tea that I had with Gertie upon my visits. I didn’t have time to sit with her today, but I had no doubt that she would still give Leo some of the generic cat treats that she kept on hand in a little glass jar in the pantry.
I closed the door behind me to make sure that not too much heat escaped into the cold outdoors. To my right was a parlor with an impressive dark wooden hearth, antique furniture, and one of those vintage serving carts that held teas, coffees, and waters. I could literally hear the blazing fire crackle from my position. Sitting in that room and reading a good book must be a prime attraction while staying here at the inn.
Maybe you should reconsider having that cup of tea with the old biddy. There is a perfect spot over by the base of the hearth that would allow me the perfect napping spot. A half hour should do just fine. Why didn’t I consider this place before? I’ve changed my mind about rushing this visit, Raven. Take your time.
“Raven, my dear!”
I glanced up and saw Gertie sitting at the dining room table. I motioned for her to stay where she was and that I would go to her. After all, she was in her nineties.
“Hi, Gertie,” I replied with a smile, making my way across the beautiful hardwood floors as I removed my gloves. There were vintage area rugs strategically placed here and there, but nothing could hide the beauty of the wood beneath. “I was stopping by to speak with Conrad Amereldine.”
I had met Conrad only a handful of times over the years. He was the head chef at one of my mother’s favorite restaurants in New York City, and she’d personally asked him to cater the reception following the ceremony.
From my understanding, he’d brought two of his staff to help with the preparations. Mom had decided against a four-course meal. That was a great thing, considering the amount that he’d wanted to charge my mother for each dinner plate.
Truthfully, I don’t think I’d ever eaten in his restaurant.
The entrees each cost more than the winter boots that were currently on my feet.
“I wish I could stay and enjoy a cup of tea with you, but I have a few more stops to make today for tomorrow’s main event,” I explained, leaning down and placing a kiss on the woman’s weathered cheek. She’d become like a surrogate grandmother to me over the last two years, and I always made sure to stop by once or twice a week to pay her a visit. “How are you feeling today?”
I kept waiting for Leo to make a wisecrack or two, but I received nothing but silence. A quick glance over my shoulder told me that he had indeed made his way over to the hearth and immediately curled up into a toasty little ball. I suppose giving him a five-minute catnap wouldn’t hurt. It was clear that his short-term memory loss had kicked in regarding the blackmail scheme to convince my mother to stop the wedding.
“That tea blend you made me last week has taken away the ache in my knees,” Gertie exclaimed with a bright smile. She patted my hand before I straightened and looked around for any of the guests. I suppose I didn’t have to speak with the chef personally. One of his employees could just hand off the check. “Your grandmother was sweet enough to teach me some of those holistic blends, but I can never seem to get them right. I do believe that you’re just like her, Raven. You simply have that magical knack.”
The palm of my right hand began to prickle in warmth, but it did so practically every time that I was in Gertie’s presence. I was almost certain that she knew of the Marigold abilities, but it wasn’t like I could come right out and ask her.
“Chef Amereldine left the inn around a half hour ago,” Gertie revealed as she smoothed a white cloth napkin over her lap. It appeared that she was getting ready to enjoy her lunch. “His two companions are still up in their rooms. Would you like me to leave Chef Amereldine a message?”
“Did Mr. Amereldine say where he was going?”
“No, dear. He was up early and down here for breakfast, but he didn’t mention his plans for the day.” Gertie shifted in her seat before calling out toward the kitchen. “Beverly, would you please bring me the cat treats?”
Leo wouldn’t be asleep for long now, even if the tasty offer was in the generic form.
“I have some more errands to run around town, so maybe I’ll see Mr. Amereldine out and about,” I said with a smile. I had changed the location of the meeting with the band manager to the bakery. Unfortunately, there was no time for lunch. I wasn’t worried about Mom recognizing the manager around town, especially since she would be too busy elsewhere. I would just take my time glancing inside some of the storefronts on my walk to see if I caught sight of the chef. It wasn’t like he could have gone far. “If not, I can always stop by later this afternoon. Please tell him that I dropped by.”
“How are you, Raven?” Beverly asked as she breezed into the dining room. She helped Gertie around the inn, and she could whip up some amazing dinners for the guests. She had an eye for detail, so the table always had the proper settings. “Is your mother excited about tomorrow? I know she and Beetle stipulated no gifts, but I couldn’t help myself. I ended up buying them the most beautiful gilded picture frame from the antique shop.”
The wedding list was supposed to have been kept small, but Beetle had served quite a lot of clients throughout the years who used his accounting services. Little by little, the guest list had grown until Mom and Beetle decided to ask the mayor if they could hold the ceremony and the reception in the middle of the town square’s winter wonderland.
The ceremony would be private for close friends and family, while the reception would be for the guests to help the couple celebrate their marriage in style.
The heaters were already strategically placed around the area, so all Mom and Beetle had to do was rent an abundance of tables and chairs, an extra-large warming tent, and a wedding trestle that could be positioned in the open area in front of Santa Claus’ seat.
“That was so sweet of you, Beverly. You didn’t have to do that, but I’m sure my mom will be touched that you went ahead anyway.”
“Where there are wedding bells…” Gertie said in more of a song followed by a chuckle.
Raven! Raven! Raven! I had the most horrible nightmare that someone wanted to assassinate my supplier. It was so horrid, that I’ll take those generic treats now to ease my anxiety. Better to focus on heartburn than to worry over something that would most likely never happen. Right? Raven?
I made sure not to respond while Beverly leaned down and fawned all over him before scattering some of the cat treats on the rug near Gertie’s seat. I would
have to gently remind him about everything that had transpired this morning when we were out of everyone’s presence.
His dramatic flairs could be legendary.
As for Gertie’s prompt to discuss my relationship with Liam, I wisely kept quiet about that as well. Everyone had lately been hinting that Liam and I should take that final leap soon, but we actually both preferred taking things slow.
Let’s face it.
Intertwining the supernatural in our relationship didn’t make ours the most conventional union to begin with.
“Speaking of weddings, I think that Chef Amereldine is regretting never telling your mother how he really felt about her all those years ago.” Beverly shrugged before sealing up the bag of treats that she was still holding in her hands. “Some people don’t realize what they have until it’s no longer there.”
Leo must have sucked one of the morsels down the wrong tube.
Either that, or reality had hit him full force.
“I don’t understand,” I replied to Beverly with a frown, truly having no idea what she was referring to. “Are you saying that Mr. Amereldine has some sort of crush on my mother?”
It’s all coming back to me, Raven. Every horrible detail…including the heartburn. Anyway, this works in our favor. We can tell my VVBFF that your wicked mother had an affair, I’ll console him for a while, and then things will eventually return to normal to the point that I constantly have my blueberry-filled premium organic catnip treats on some type of regular schedule once again. Of course, we’ll have to send your mother packing with the chef, but I’ll let you handle all of the scandalous family details.
“You know how this old house can be,” Beverly dismissed with a nervous laugh. She was just now beginning to realize that I had no idea that my mother had a previous relationship with Mr. Amereldine. “They were having the conversation in the parlor, and I just assumed that you knew they’d been involved once. He was telling her that he should never have let her go, and that he missed her company. It was very sweet, really.”
Leo began to hack up what sounded like a monstrous hairball, but I knew that it was his reaction to Beverly’s commentary.
“Leave it to Mom to have a man from a previous relationship cater her wedding to another man,” I replied wryly with an apprehensive chuckle, wishing there was an easy way to remove myself from this rather uncomfortable conversation. I took a step back as I thought over my options. “I’m sure that I’ll run into—”
“Are you looking for Chef Amereldine?”
The woman’s voice that came from behind me was anything but friendly, and I caught Beverly’s wary smile fade at the intrusion. I slowly turned until I was face to face with a middle-aged woman whose sharp features could have been carved in granite.
“Yes,” I replied after clearing my throat. “I’m Regina Marigold’s daughter. I was hoping to drop off Mr. Amereldine’s check for tomorrow’s event.”
The woman eyed me up and down with scrutiny, and I fought the urge to shift a little under her terse judgement. My mother had hired Conrad Amereldine, which meant they were all technically under contract through tomorrow. I refused to feel inferior to a woman who I didn’t even know and was paying for a service. More importantly, I didn’t understand the undeserved hostility that she was clearly sending my way.
I wouldn’t be opposed to you hurling one of your energy balls her way, Raven. I’m certainly not one to talk about looks given my current in-style rugged appearance, but have you taken a gander at that beak? It would certainly do a hawk proud, wouldn’t it? Maybe even a parrot. She could crack walnuts with that thing. Listen, we could always chalk up your energy ball to some freak static electricity that she got from walking across the area rug too fast. Don’t worry. I’ll back you up.
“His proper title is Chef Conrad.” The woman leisurely held out her hand, but not to formally greet me. Instead, the palm of her hand was face up. “I’m Chef Conrad’s first assistant, Cecelia Murray. I’ll take the payment and make sure that he receives it.”
First assistant? I’m not so sure we’re ready to meet the second. Listen, I don’t know about you, but she looks as if she wants to take the check that you brought for the chef and rip it to shreds. You know, someone like her would be great to have as an ally in the squirrelpocalypse. We’d call her Hammer-Beak. Not that I’d ever trust her with those two beady eyes of hers, but she could always be used as a weapon of last resort.
“I appreciate the offer, Cecelia,” I said, purposefully using her first name without asking.
I slipped my left hand inside of my pocket and fiddled with the envelope that I’d folded up and stuffed inside. There was no way that I was handing this woman a rather hefty check, and I had no qualms about her knowing that, either.
I was no longer the meek woman who barely got through life back in the Big Apple. I came from a long line of powerful witches, and I’d grown into my own abilities this past year. I straightened my shoulders, though I doubt she could see my bravado through the thick, padded coat.
“As I just mentioned to Gertie and Beverly, I’m sure that I’ll see Mr. Amereldine while I’m walking back through town.”
“The chef is a very busy man,” Cecelia asserted, still holding her hand out. Her arm had to be getting tired. “As I said, I’ll make sure that he receives his payment for giving up a very lucrative weekend at the restaurant given the time of year.”
I heard Beverly cough rather discreetly, letting me know that this so-called confrontation would be all over town by this afternoon. There were certain cogs in the gossip mill that liked to work overtime, and Beverly was one of the special few trusted to deliver the truly premium grit.
It wasn’t like I’d ever met Cecelia before, and her animosity clearly stemmed from her boss doing my mother a favor. It was almost as if she were—
Jealous! That’s it, Raven! You’ve solved the case! This prehistoric duck-billed dinosaur is the blackmailer and the one who threatened to end my supplier’s life. Do you need me to connect the dots? This criminal assistant chef doesn’t like that her boss is still in love with the Mistress of the Dark. Can’t say that I blame her, because who on earth would want to commit to something like her? Anyway, call the good ol’ sheriff and tell him that he owes us one. Oh, and ask him if he’ll pay us in blueberry-filled edibles. This case is solved!
Chapter Five
So, what you are saying is that I called the end of the case too early. Is that it?
“Just because Cecelia Murray isn’t a nice woman doesn’t automatically mean that she was the one blackmailing Mom,” I said after I’d closed the large, heavy oak door behind me. It didn’t take me long to make sure that my scarf was adjusted over the lower half of my face and that my hands were tucked warmly into my gloves. “It does deserve looking into, though.”
Let me get this straight—your mother and this chef were concocting who-knows-what in who-knows-where during who-knows-when, while the assistant chef wanted in on the action?
“Don’t make it sound so sordid,” I scolded, carefully making my way down the steps.
The flurries were becoming a little fluffier and heavier, which meant that the precipitation would stick to the ground a lot faster than the weatherman had predicted. We weren’t supposed to get too much snow before tomorrow, so all should be perfect for the ceremony in the middle of town square.
“We’ll ask Mom when we get back to the cottage later this afternoon what really transpired between her and the chef. In the meantime, be on the lookout for Conrad Amereldine. He shouldn’t be too hard to find, especially after Beverly mentioned that he had a really thick mustache with handles.”
Did the old biddy happen to mention if Chef Baloney was wearing one of those flat duffer hats? You know, the kind that golf pros wear when they try to put the white ball into the hole. I have better accuracy than those so-called pros, by the way. It’s all in the flick of the wrist.
“Yes,” I replied, deciding that I should tex
t Liam the name of the chef’s assistant. Maybe he could run a background check on her that would tell us if she had a record of some sort. Seeing as this blackmail scheme most likely didn’t have anything to do with the supernatural, Liam would be the most likely source to be able to uncover some evidence. My own thoughts brought me up short. “Uh-oh.”
Don’t uh-oh me, Raven. You’re wearing winter boots, while my sensitive paws are practically sticking to the icy spots that are all over this cobblestone intersection. Add calling the fig newton guy on your to-do list. We shouldn’t be having to walk in this weather. I believe it’s called animal cruelty. Not to change the subject, but do we know if Chef Baloney was wearing black dress shoes instead of being properly dressed for the inclement weather?
“Yes, Leo,” I replied with exasperation. I’d stopped at the corner so that I could fill him in on the direction that my thoughts had taken me regarding Mom’s blackmail problem. “Beverly mentioned that the chef hadn’t brought any winter boots with him. That’s not our problem right now. You sure are obsessing over what the man was wearing before he left the inn. Anyway, Aunt Rowena was invited to the wedding, Leo. She declined, but do you think that she would resort to a scheme like blackmail?”
My grandmother’s sister—Rowena Lattice Marigold—was still part of the coven up north, though every supernatural being in Paramour Bay did their best to avoid any run-ins with her. She was the main reason that there was a coven war between the two battling factions, though that seemed to have somewhat died down recently.
To sum everything up quickly and with a big red bow, Aunt Rowena didn’t want to give up her place in the coven after Nan had been excommunicated from the only home that she’d ever known. It had all worked out for the best, of course.
Still, hurt feelings between the two sisters had tended to complicate family matters in the long run.
“We need to talk to Rye,” I concluded after having taken the time to remove the glove on my right hand and quickly text Liam that he should run a background check on the catering crew. Once that task was completed, I slipped my phone back inside my coat pocket. “Let’s head to the bakery and—”
Frosty Blend (A Paramour Bay Cozy Paranormal Mystery Book 15) Page 4